Deprived
by glindalovesshoes
Summary: Naked, alone and deprived of her basic senses through an alien device, Sam Carter desperately waits for rescue. Sam/Jack Angst


A/N: This is a little bit on the darker side but I still hope you enjoy!  
I finally finished watching SG-1 and I don't even know what to do with myself now.  
Huge thanks to my beta Alex for beind amazing as always and all you guys who have been out there reading my stuff and supporting me.  
Please let me know what you think!

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Deprived

Cold. Nakedness. Fear. Defenselessness. It is all she can feel right now as she's standing there, somewhere she can only assume is a human slave market somewhere in the galaxy. At least that's what she thinks is happening because she doesn't actually know. She can't see. Can't hear. The moment after she got captured by the traders, they had put some sort of metal collar around her throat, leaving her blind and deaf to her surroundings with no chance of escape. They don't need restraints or shackles when they can render their victims defenseless by depriving them of their basic human senses.

During her training in the Air Force they'd done the whole being held hostage situation thing. They'd been blindfolded or gagged, had learned how to communicate with their eyes or orientate with their hearing. She'd been good at that. The loss of her vision had heightened her senses up to the point that she'd been able to disable two of her supposed "capturers" and free one of her team members so he could take their blindfolds off. But being deprived of not just one, but two, of her most reliable senses is more than she can handle in this situation.

Teal'c could do it, she thinks. Teal'c would probably know how to use his other senses, his instinct, because he was a seasoned warrior with incredible abilities. Perhaps the colonel wouldn't be helpless in this situation either. He'd been taken hostage before, he'd been tortured, he had… _experience_ with this kind of stuff. They would know what to do if they were here. But luckily, they are not. Are they? It's not like she can tell. But she likes to think if they were near her, she could sense them in other ways. She's fairly sure she'd know if _he_ were near her. She can always tell.

To Sam, the silence is the worst. She knows she's being kept with a lot of other humans, she can tell from the smell, the limps she stumbles across when they shoved her into what she can only imagine is some sort of cell. There had been diffident touches and flinches when she'd tried to reach out to someone, anyone who was probably suffering the same fate she was. Blind. Deaf. Alone with her thoughts, unable to hear her own or the other's words, with no reassurance of anyone nearby who could hear them.

At one point someone had tentatively touched her arm and she'd been able to feel the silent question that came along with it. The touch had gone down her arm until it had reached her hand, carefully entwining delicate, tiny fingers with hers. When the realization had hit that whoever was sitting next to her was probably a child, she'd openly sobbed. Being here as an adult, a woman even, was bad. But being here as a child? That was the worst thing she could ever imagine happening.

She shouldn't even be here. Their trip to the planet was supposed to have been a simple recon mission to test the new naquadah detecting software for one of the ARNOLD. But as was always the case for SG-1, they'd stumbled upon the wrong place at the wrong time, busting some space pirates who unfortunately were heavily armed. Fall-back to the gate had sounded simpler than it actually was. Sam had been with Teal'c who'd taken a hit in the shoulder and she'd given him cover while at the same time trying to program the ARNOLD to fly back to the gate. They couldn't let their new program fall into enemy hands after all.

And then, for some reason, she hadn't made it. Her memory is fuzzy now, and the details blurry. One moment she'd been on her way to the gate, hearing the Colonel call her by her last name and then… Darkness. Deafness. Hitting and touching and forceful undressing. She can remember crying for help, fighting, but she'd been so disoriented, and her capturers had been the ones with the advantages.

What are they going to do to her? This particular question has been going around in circles inside her head for - was it hours, days, since her capture? When would they take off the collar? Would she be able to see and hear again or would the device have caused irreversible damage to her nervous system? Oh, if only she were familiar with the technology, if only she had her eyesight to study one of the devices, maybe she could find a way to take them off. But every time she'd tried to fiddle with it, to learn more, she was given an overwhelming electric shock which would force her to her knees.

The smell of urine, filth and death is surrounding her, contaminating the very air she breathes in. Sam can taste it on the tip of her tongue. There is a lot going on around them as she is now standing there, in line with others after having been forced up on some kind of pedestal. There are people around them, many people, and she can feel their eyes on her. It is weird, the things you experience when you have basically nothing left but touch, taste and smell.

A sudden shiver runs down her back, followed by a tingle somewhere deep inside her, an uneasy buzzing she has come to associate with the presence of naquadah in someone else's body. The buzzing increases as Sam feels the person come closer from the right-hand side and she can't help but gasp as the intensity overwhelms her. It's a Goa'uld. Can't be a Jaffa because her feeling is not as intense, she has learned to distinguish them over the years. There is no doubt that if she can feel the Goa'uld, the snake can feel her, too. Whoever it is comes to a stop right in front of her, making her heart drop down to her stomach. Now, her fate is sealed. Shit.

Sam expects them to drag her off right away, maybe even kill her because, well, her face is technically not an unknown one throughout the galaxy. Either her capturers don't know who she is, or they know it full well and are ready to sell her to the next highest bidding system lord. She can't decide which would be worse. Ba'al would have a field day if he managed to get his hands on her and who knows what kind of other sick snake out there might be looking forward to implanting her with another symbiote. The thought of being forcefully blended with another symbiote once again makes her sick to her stomach. She'd rather die than go through this again.

The Goa'uld is still standing in front of her, she can feel its eyes on her. What she doesn't expect though, is the rough hand which suddenly wraps around her chin, forcefully ripping her head to the left. Even though she can't see, her eyes are open, and she must be looking right at it. What does the snake see? Fear? Distress? She hopes her eyes convey not only her obvious helplessness but also her resilience, her strength and the fact she will not give up.

Major Samantha Carter does not quit, she fights until the very end. The Goa'uld pulls her closer and she can smell its sweet breath right against her face. They never smell foul or dirty, no. They pride themselves on being clean and clad into the most delicate fabrics. Most of the time, their ships smell metallic and sterile, but the hosts are always surrounded by this sickeningly sweet smell which makes her skin crawl. So, what possesses her in just this moment she does not know, but she spits into the Goa'uld's face. Her punishment comes immediately by the electric surge from her collar, bringing her to her knees.

She can feel herself cry out but the fact she cannot hear her own screams in reaction to the pain doesn't help. They're overdoing it, they've never shocked her this long before and when the pain finally stops and eases off, she is dragged back upon her shaking legs immediately. It's not helping, not at all, because she falls right back upon the ground as her brain has no control over her body. She is disoriented and powerless. What if she does not make it?

Whoever is trying to make her stand back up is not letting go. Instead, she can feel rough hands fisting into her hair and pulling her back up by her head. It hurts, hurts terribly but she doesn't scream, not when there is no use. An unexpected fist collides with the side of her cheek and Sam can feel her tooth crack. Her mouth fills with blood and she tries to spit it out but instead she can feel it drip down her chin right upon her exposed chest. The pain is too much. The blow has disoriented her even more and her head lolls to the side. She is on the verge of losing consciousness which maybe wouldn't be so bad after all.

No. Stay awake. Stay awake. The person who is holding her by the hair - she is sure he's ripped out a few when her head was yanked to the side so forcefully by the blow - has now forced back her arms and is holding her up in some sort of armlock. The Goa'uld is still there, buzzing with amusement, taking pleasure in her pain. At least that's what she thinks it's doing.

Her mouth is still bleeding, and she wonders if next to her broken tooth she has a broken jaw as well. A hand comes up, spreading the blood which drips down her chin across her breasts, pulling at her nipples. Sam squirms, tries to get out of the armlock which is holding her up. She tries to kick her capturer, but the collar sends another electric shock through her. Then, suddenly, she is falling.

The man has let go of her and she hits the ground. People are stumbling over her; one steps right into her stomach making her cry out and roll into a fetal position. What is happening?! Although she cannot see, her eyes are darting around in the darkness when someone heavy falls upon her and doesn't move. Dead.

Shit. shit, shit, shit. Something is going on and she doesn't know what. Are they being attacked? Where is the Goa'uld? What is happening? What is…?

The heavy body upon her is removed and suddenly Sam realizes how cold she is once again. She doesn't dare to open her eyes - not that she would see anything anyway - instead she waits for the inevitable. Perhaps they are taking her away, perhaps they, whoever they are - will kill her. What she doesn't expect though is the soft hand which oh-so-slowly touches her shoulder.

She doesn't move, though the touch confuses her. The hand gently moves up to her face, touching the collar, trying to remove it, which immediately sends another shock wave though her body. Screaming she tries to scramble up and away from the person because, please, she cannot handle any more of the pain right now, but the hands wraps around her wrist, tugging slightly, dabbing her pulse points as if to calm her down. Strong hands… human hands.

It is only when a piece of fabric - a jacket? - is wrapped around her shoulders that she smells it, or rather… _him._ Sam has memorized it, would recognize it anywhere in the galaxy. Her eyes fill with tears as she can feel herself mumble a quiet "Colonel?".

His one hand leaves her wrist and gently caresses her forehead. Finally, for the first time, she reaches out to the man in front of her, her hand bumping against his BDU jacket. She can feel the strap of his P-90, follows it until she arrives at his shoulder, grasping it tightly. He pulls her against his chest and finally, he is everywhere: filling her senses, her soul. Relief shoots through her, overwhelms her because she cannot believe he is here, cannot believe he found her and saved her. His lips are moving against her ear and she knows he is trying to tell her something she cannot hear. Suddenly, he stiffens.

Sam can feel him withdraw, squeezing her wrist slightly before his one arm comes up under her knees while the other one wraps around her shoulders. O'Neill picks her up in one swift move, only stumbling slightly. Carrying her is probably bad for his knees, but Sam doesn't care, at least not enough to try and tell him to put her down. Not when she's with him, not when she's safe. He presses her close against his chest as he runs, won't let go of her even when she can sense Teal'c close by. There is another presence, a symbiote - possibly Tok'ra - she has not met before because she has become pretty good at distinguishing between them.

The moment they are on the ship, O'Neill sets her down on some kind of cushioned chest, draping a blanket across her lower body part. She snuggles deeper into the jacket, inhaling his scent to calm her down further. He lets go of her but doesn't leave her. Sam can sense him looking at her, but she hopes it's anything but pity.

"Thank you. Thank you for coming for me." She really hopes she's saying it out loud, not just screaming it inside her head. Oh, how she hopes he will hear her. She cannot hear herself speak so she isn't totally sure. His hand entwines with hers and squeezes once, signalizing that of course they'd come for her. Nobody gets left behind and especially not her.

"The collar makes me blind and deaf. It is probably some sort of sense deprivation technology which latches onto my nervous system though my spinal card, establishing a direct link to my brain. Whenever I or someone else touches it, I get hit with an electric shock." Sam tries to describe the collar to whoever is listening as she can feel themselves take off. The Colonel keeps holding her hand.

He's probably rolling his eyes at her, but she hopes his annoyance comes with a great deal of relief now that they have her, now that they can take her home.

They establish some sort of communication where she says something, and he squeezes her hand. Once for _yes_, twice for _no_. Figuring out how the collar works takes less time than she expects, especially when the Tok'ra starts working on it. She gets shocked only two more times, but she doesn't mind, because the sooner they figure this thing out, the sooner she has her sight and hearing back. O'Neill is the one who tenses next to her, who makes sure to show her he won't let go and that _It's going to be okay, Carter_. He's the one who doesn't leave her side.

Thus, when the time has come and the Tok'ra finally removes the collar, _he _is the first thing she sees as she blinks against the bright lights of the Goa'uld cargo ship they're on. The sudden assault of light, and sound, shapes and colours, is for a moment so disconcerting that it is a blessing to have him to focus on. His eyes are filled with relief and fear, with worry and tension and questions. So many questions she doesn't have the answers to right now. There is something underneath all these emotions though, a fire, a spark, the one kind of look which is reserved just for her.

"Carter? Can you see me? Hear me?"

"Yes," Sam answers shaking, her voice sounding foreign to her ears. "She grasps his hands even tighter in her own. "It worked. Sir, I'm… I'm so sorry… I…"

"Don't!" He says and she flinches because his voice sounds a little too loud. Suddenly he is holding her again, tightly pressed against his chest. They're alone, (more or less anyway) because she can see Teal'c and Tok'ra at the control panels in the room ahead of them. If any of them notice anything about the forbidden public display of affection between Major and Colonel, they pretend not to.

All those days - weeks? - with just her sense of touch, taste and smell have made her more receptive to little things: the beat of his pulse on his throat where she is resting her head, the manner in which he tries to control his breathing and the way he holds her so close as if he never intends to let go. He smells a little after what has probably been days of travel and stress, feels a little thinner - not that she has much to compare her assumption with, because the last time they hugged had been… she can't even remember right now. But it's him. So, Sam hugs him back, lets him rock their bodies in a hypnotic manner until she's almost asleep.

"Just… just never do that again, Carter. Okay?" he whispers against her hair and she can swear he lets his lips linger against her head just a moment longer. She suspects he needs that extra closeness as much as she does.

"Sure betcha," Sam answers back before giving in to the pull of sleep and his little chuckle from somewhere deep down inside his chest lets her know that they are going to be okay.


End file.
